


Give Me A Hand

by Kimmi_watch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I'm not a crazy person, M/M, and derek/stiles' hand, but there's also stiles/stiles' hand, even though there's weirdness, give it a chance, magic spell gone awry, this is all because of that gifset of dylan in that interview, this is going to sound weird, touching his junk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmi_watch/pseuds/Kimmi_watch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles casts a spell that backfires. And when it backfires, it backfires at the worst possible time with the worst possible outcome. He'll never be able to look Derek's boss in the eye again, and Derek's boss will probably only be able to look Stiles in the crotch, because of reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me A Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this gifset](http://kimmi-watch.tumblr.com/post/72722716035/dylan-buddy-you-okay-x). So really, this is all Dylan's fault.
> 
> I am terribly, terribly sorry. But Dylan just... does things to me, I can't help it.
> 
> Tumblr fic but I figured, why not post it here too.

The spell wasn’t supposed to work the way it ended up doing. It was supposed to take something lifeless and give it a mind of it’s own, but just temporarily. Stiles had come across the spell and though, why the hell not, and given it a shot, trying to make a lacrosse ball in his hand come to life. No dice, it hadn’t worked, so he’d thrown the ball away and forgotten about it.

The first sign that something was happening was a tingling in his arm. He’d written it off as writing cramps, completely forgetting the spell he’d cast because he’d thought it hadn’t worked. After the tingling he’d find himself tapping his fingers without meaning to, but everyone did that, right? That’s why nothing clicked.

Until it did.

The timing was the worst thing ever. He was attending a dinner with Derek and Derek’s boss when it happened. He was enjoying a lovely conversation, telling a story about Derek that was making everyone laugh, when suddenly everyone went completely silent and stared at him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked him, his face completely red and looking like he was about to have an aneurysm.

Stiles cocked his head to the side, confused about what he was talking about. The story wasn’t that embarrassing. “What? I’m not allowed to tell stories?” He asked, feeling affronted. They’d been joking before the dinner that Stiles was just there to act as arm candy but he hadn’t thought Derek was serious, it wasn’t like Derek to think of anyone that way.

"Your hand." Derek told him, his eyes darting down to Stiles’ lap quickly before flushing an even brighter red, which Stiles hadn’t thought was even possible, and looking away. 

Stiles frowned in confusion and looked down at his lap. His eyes widened in shock when he saw that he was… touching himself. Not just touching himself, he was cupping himself, rubbing himself. 

He jumped and tried to pull his hand away and shake it off (his hand, not his dick, there was enough stimulation happening to his dick, he didn’t need to shake it too) but it didn’t budge. If anything his grip became tighter, as though his hand didn’t want to leave his junk alone. Scott had made jokes about that when they were teenagers but apparently it was true.

"What the fuck?" He asked, jumping out of his seat and bouncing a couple of times to try to get his hand to let go of his dick. No such luck, his hand just seemed to think that an up and down movement was a good idea and gripped his dick, starting to stroke up and down.

"We have to go." Derek said, standing up and pushing his body against Stiles’ to walk him to the door. Everyone was watching them, not just their group but also everyone in the restaurant because they’d drawn an audience. Who could blame them, there was a guy touching himself and jumping up and down in the restaurant, anyone would look at that.

Derek hustled him out to the car, using his body and then both of their jackets as a shield as they headed to the car. Derek was still a brighter red than Stiles had ever seen him and Stiles himself was starting to panic.

"Derek, I can’t stop." He whined, thunking his head back against the headrest as Derek hurriedly started the car and took off.

"What’s causing this?" He asked, his eyes continually darting to Stiles’ crotch as though he couldn’t help himself. Stiles noticed that Derek’s pants were starting to tent too but he wasn’t uncontrollably touching himself so it seemed Stiles was all alone in that boat. No, Derek was just getting hard because one of his favorite things to do in the bedroom was watch Stiles get himself off. Stiles couldn’t blame him for being turned on, Stiles kind of wanted to make his hand move to touch Derek instead but it would not budge.

Stiles started cataloging every supernatural nasty they’d ever come across in his head, trying to find one that could force him to do something like this. Nothing was fitting so he started thinking of any that he could remember from the Bestiary, but he was getting kind of distracted from the feelings coming from his pants.

Then it hit him. The spell! The spell had worked, not on the ball but on his hand. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it right away.

"So, um, how pissed would you be if I told you I kind of did this to myself?" He asked, giving Derek a sheepish look as they pulled into their driveway. Derek turned to face him, shutting off the car.

"What did you do?" He asked but you’d think he was asking Stiles’ dick that question, what with the way his eyes were glued to his crotch.

"So I tried to do a spell about a month ago…" He trailed off when Derek tore his eyes away from the show happening in front of him to give him a glare.

"What kind of spell?" He growled out, which was not the right tone to use when Stiles was already touching himself, he loved that little annoyed growl thing Derek did. 

"To make an inanimate object and give it a mind of it’s own." He told him. Derek rolled his eyes, looking back at Stiles’ hand.

"So you’re telling me that your hand has a mind of it’s own and the thing it chooses to do… is to grope your dick?" He asked. Stiles bit his lip and shrugged. Maybe Scott hadn’t been so wrong after all. 

"Apparently. I mean, my hand did have some pretty amazing times with my dick when I was a teenager, it was bound to happen." He said with a grin.

Derek rolled his eyes, tearing his seat belt off and leaning over Stiles. He hurriedly undid Stiles’ pants and gripped Stiles’ animated hand and forcibly pulled it away. The hand resisted but was no match for werewolf strength.

"I can’t really blame it." Derek mused, gripping Stiles’ cock with the hand not being used to keep Stiles’ other hand away from it’s goal. "Sometimes I can barely stop myself from touching you too." He added before leaning in and swallowing Stiles deep.

Stiles moaned, his head falling back against the head rest yet again and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Derek had the most amazing mouth and his blowjob skills were second to none. Stiles’ hand tried to fight against Derek to get in on the action before admitting defeat and simply loosening and tightening it’s grip around Derek’s hand, in just the right way Stiles liked when he was stroking off or being stroked off, as though it was giving Derek pointers, which was kind of nice but unnecessary because by now Derek knew all the tips and tricks that were involved in getting Stiles off the hardest.

A few moments later, Derek let go of the hand, whether it was because he felt sorry for it or because he was too into what he was doing, Stiles wasn’t sure, but the hand took that opportunity to move up to play with Stiles’ nipples, going right under the shirt. Stiles’ wanted to make a joke about his hand getting presumptuous but then Derek did that thing with his tongue that drove Stiles crazy and he was coming and coming hard.

"We’re seeing Deaton in the morning." Derek said, breathing heavily and pulling back to look at Stiles. His mouth was red and messy and he looked amazing so Stiles whimpered a little at him bringing up Deaton in the middle of sexy times. "And getting this thing reversed." He added.

Stiles pouted, looking at his hand. “Do we have to? My hand just wants to love me.” He joked and Derek rolled his eyes.

"You want what happened in the restaurant to happen again?" He asked, making Stiles shiver and shake his head because no, he definitely did not want that to happen again. His hand needed to learn boundaries and when it was appropriate to do all of that stuff. "So we’ll get it reversed tomorrow." He said firmly and Stiles nodded.

"Fine, if we must." He agreed over dramatically, throwing his head to the side as though he couldn’t bare the thought of it. That was when he noticed that his hand was making a beeline for Derek’s pants. He couldn’t help but laugh, even as Derek’s eyes widened when Stiles’ hand got his pants undone and a tight grip on Derek’s still hard cock. "Hey, it looks like he likes your cock too! Makes sense, seeing as though he’s been on your cock nearly as much as mine." He said with a grin.

Derek rolled his eyes at him before biting his lip as Stiles’ hand set a hard and fast pace, as though trying to prove how well it could do this. They both had the thought that maybe it was trying to get him to change his mind about going to Deaton but that couldn’t be it, could it? It’s not like it could hear them…

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://kimmi-watch.tumblr.com/). Come say hi and feel free to follow me.


End file.
